


Seventh Inning Stretch

by morrezela



Series: Porn Shop Curtains [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Curtain Fic, M/M, Mild Kink, Sex Toys, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 18:40:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean retire from hunting and open a sex shop. Sam tries to seduce his brother into giving in to the love, but Dean is a stubborn ass who has issues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seventh Inning Stretch

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Curtain!Fic, wincest, mentions of sex toys, references to Purgatory. Light spoilers for Season 7.
> 
> A/N: This is for the ‘sports themes and fetishization’ square on m homebrewbingo bingo card.
> 
> Leather, Ponies! and School Girls and Apple Pie precede it in the Porn Shop Curtains series.

“Why was there a baseball shaped dildo on my bed?” Dean demanded as he barged into their kitchen waving the silicon toy in the air.

Sam shrugged and struggled to keep his face passive. “I thought the golf club one might not be enough for you?”

Dean’s face turned three shades of red – all of them pissed off. “Sammy,” he growled threateningly.

Playing with fire was something that Sam had not yet managed to quit doing. Stopping hunting was one thing. Stopping from screwing with Dean was another.

“Just trying to help out,” Sam said as innocently as he could manage. “You’ve seemed stressed lately.”

“I can buy my own sex toys for that,” Dean snapped. “I thought I told you to leave my toy chest alone.”

“It wasn’t in your toy chest, was it?” Sam challenged.

Dean glowered at him. “Then stay out of… You stay out of my room!”

They both stared at each other in shock at the words. Sam wasn’t sure if either of them knew the concept of giving that much personal space. It felt wrong at a fundamental level.

“Fuck you, Dean,” Sam growled.

“No,” Dean snarled back, “you go fuck yourself. With this,” he added on as he slapped the dildo against Sam’s chest before stalking away. The sound of his bedroom door slamming shut echoed through their small house.

“Fucking jerk,” Sam muttered to himself. He left the dildo propped up next to the coffeemaker to mock Dean in the morning and went to go slam the door to his own bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sleeping in his own room without being able to hear Dean’s breathing was bad enough. Sleeping with his door closed was torture. When Sam finally caved in and opened his door, a quick glance down the hallway showed that Dean’s was still firmly shut.

“And I get called the stubborn one,” Sam muttered to himself as he crawled back under the covers.

Two hours later, and he still couldn’t sleep. He wondered if he was too old to grab his blanket and go knocking on his big brother’s door claiming to have a nightmare.

Probably. Besides, Sam’s nightmares didn’t have that great of a track record for either the world or his own mental health. It would only end in a late night research session.

Still, if he couldn’t sleep, there was no reason Dean should. Sam bundled up his pillow and a blanket and walked down to Dean’s door where he oh so politely knocked five or six times.

“What?” Dean’s voice sounded muzzy like he’d actually been unconscious. Sam hated him a little for that.

“I can’t sleep,” Sam whined.

There was a shuffle inside the room, and a bleary eyed and disheveled Dean cracked his door open. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said.

“Can I sleep with you?” Sam asked as he raised his pillow and blanket up. “I brought spares.”

Dean narrowed his eyes in irritation, but pulled the door open with a huff. “Fine. Baby.”

“You say such sweet things to me,” Sam couldn’t help but mock as he crawled into Dean’s bed.

“Bullshit, you’re aiming for a caring and sharing talk,” Dean grumbled. “Don’t think I don’t know what that goddamned dildo was about.”

“I just want to sleep with you,” Sam defended himself. Which was true enough so long as he didn’t define what he meant by ‘sleep.’

“Uh-huh,” Dean didn’t sound convinced as he crawled back into his side of the bed.

If it was one of Dean’s ‘romantic’ pornos, they’d end up having cuddling sex in the conveniently arranged sleeping together moment. As it was, Sam was out cold before Dean, his brother’s breaths lulling him to sleep.

He woke up to a steaming cup of coffee being placed on Dean’s nightstand. It was their largest coffee cup, and the dildo was sticking out of it.

“You suck,” Dean informed him.

“I also blow,” Sam retorted easily. He pulled the dildo out of his mug and contemplated it for all of a second before licking it and sucking the coffee remnants from its oddly suggestive shape.

“That’s, that isn’t blowing, Sammy,” Dean’s voice was hoarse and his eyes dilated.

“Yeah?” Sam asked, wrapping his fingers around the shaft of the bat.

“I need to go take a shower,” Dean announced as he spun on his heel and started hurrying away.

“Dean!” Sam yelled after him. “Will you just wait a minute?”

“No!” Dean yelled back. “No, Sammy. I’m not… I know what you’re doing, and it’s wrong.”

“More wrong than some of the other things we’ve done?” Sam challenged.

“It doesn’t have to be more wrong,” Dean argued. “This wouldn’t be like hustling pool to feed us or faking an identity to get into a crime scene so we could hunt. This would just be selfish.”

“Why? Because you want to bone me? I’m not getting pregnant, Dean. And I’m not getting less fucked up in the head. Do you think that I can even build a relationship with another person? Can you even figure out how that would work? Are you willing to get close to somebody and run the risk of them getting hurt?”

“Is that what this is about to you? Convenience?” Dean asked.

“No. This is about you and me and the fact that I love you in a way that I’m not supposed to. I can’t stand being away from you anymore. You’re all I have left now, but even when you weren’t, how long could I go without being with you? What amount of time have we ever been able to stay apart? Stanford was our big break, but since then?”

“Sam,” Dean started.

“Don’t tell me no, Dean. I’m not going to stop asking. And I know you want it; you told me so.”

“Wanting and having are two different things,” Dean reminded him.

“Dean,” Sam grabbed Dean’s hand, “I just want us to be happy.”

Dean yanked his hand away. “We are happy.”

“We could be happier,” Sam argued.

“No,” Dean announced with finality before finishing his trek to the bathroom and slamming the door shut.

“I am not the stubborn one,” Sam hissed to the wall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean was taking inventory. Again. Sam was watching him on the grainy shoplifting camera, bending and lifting and biting his bottom lip as he tallied the numbers on his calculator.

“You boys fighting?” the mayor asked as she placed her purchases on the counter.

“Always do,” Sam replied as he dragged his eyes away from the camera and started ringing up the sale. “You know how we are.”

The mayor and her girlfriend were two of their regular customers. They never bought anything seriously kinky, but Sam wouldn’t expect them to do that. Politics might have given them a pass on the gay thing, but gay and kinky? The press would have a field day with that.

“He loves you, you know? Whenever he comes to the chamber of commerce meetings, the only person in his world is Sammy,” the mayor told him as she handed over her credit card.

“I know.”

She smiled at him as she signed her slip. “Most people go their whole lives looking for that.”

“We’re not breaking up. We’re just having an extended rough patch,” Sam finally explained. The last thing that he needed was for Dean’s precious business associates to start thinking that Sam and Dean were ‘breaking up.’ It would be bad for business, and Dean would be pissed. He hated it when bargain hunters started trolling through the store.

“Didn’t say that you were,” the mayor said with a wink. “Just that maybe you should apologize for whatever has set him off. Princesses like him need to have their egos stroked sometimes.”

Sam smiled wanly at her when she left, then burst out laughing as soon as the door closed. He really, really wished that they had an audio recorder by the register.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What are these?” Dean demanded as he barged into Sam’s bedroom.

“I thought we were supposed to stay out of each other’s rooms now,” Sam commented as he flipped the page on his book, carefully not looking up at Dean.

“Why are there roses on my kitchen counter? With my name on them? Signed, ‘Love, Sam’?”

“Our kitchen counter,” Sam corrected, “and ostensibly somebody named Sam loves you.”

“Sammy,” the frustration in Dean’s voice was priceless.

Sam finally looked up at him. “They were the mayor’s idea. She said that I should apologize for whatever I’d done because you’re a pretty, pretty princess who needs…”

So being drenched in water and rose stems wasn’t all that pleasant. On the other hand, Sam couldn’t bring himself to regret it. The look on Dean’s face remained priceless.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ho in one?” Sam read aloud as he walked into the store. He was late, on purpose. If he couldn’t screw with Dean the way they both wanted, he’d settle for screwing with him another way.

For all that Sam had once accused him of being their father’s sheep, Dean had never adopted the more militant structures that their father preached. Rules, sure, Dean used to live by the rule book. But things like on the dot punctuality and daily calisthenics were thrown to the wayside when John threw him away, or, as Dean said, ‘let’ him start hunting on his own.

In any case, the sudden penchant for lists and promptness and detailed specifications was surprising. Dean had never been the type before. But, like all things Dean, once his mind was made up, it was made up. As Sam was still his little brother, and sadly only his little brother, it was his official duty to annoy Dean about it.

“You’re late,” Dean snapped.

“And you’re so awfully busy that you need my help,” Sam pointedly looked around the empty store.

“You missed the rush.”

“Of the teenagers sneaking in to buy their lube and condoms while trying to shoplift the porno? So sad I missed that,” Sam fake lamented. “But seriously, ‘Ho in One’?”

“You’re the one who bought something from the sports themed catalogue. Don’t go complaining when I take advantage of the good customer discount. Also? You paid way too much for that baseball bat dildo.”

Sam glowered at his brother. That plan had not worked out well at all. None of his plans in regards to Dean’s pants had worked out well because his brother could be a sanctimonious, preachy asshole when he wanted to be.

“I don’t know,” Sam drawled. “I like it.”

Dean laughed. “You aren’t using it, Sammy.”

“And you’d know?”

“I would.”

Dean sounded like he honestly meant that. Sam’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How?”

Dean flushed bright red.

“Dean?”

“I’m not talking to you about this,” Dean said as he hustled back to the cash register.

“You brought it up!”

“And I’m putting it back down, salting it and burning it!” Dean retorted.

“No,” Sam argued. “No, you’re not. You are going to tell me. I deserve to know.”

“Sam,” Dean sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Dean,” Sam mocked mercilessly.

“Look, I don’t want be the one to tell you this, but you’ve got major body tells,” Dean said.

“I do not!” Sam instantly defended.

“You do,” Dean hissed. “You ought to be glad that Dad never caught on because, dude. Dad was not in favor of the gay.”

“Dad wasn’t homophobic,” Sam said.

“Not unless it was one of his boy’s taking it up the ass,” Dean corrected. “He said it was unsafe, too vulnerable a position to be getting into with a stranger.”

“Oh, that isn’t…”

“A conversation I enjoy reliving,” Dean finished for him. “But he was right. I think he was kind of bitter about it.”

“Dad?” Sam choked.

“Can we please not talk about it?” Dean asked, always the one to not want to think about their dad and sex.

“Fine,” Sam agreed, “you can tell me about my sex life instead.”

“You just, you make these different noises when you’re… going backdoors, okay? And even if I can’t hear them because of where you’re doing it, you have a different walk when you’ve been… you know.”

“There are a lot of reasons why my walk might change,” Sam argued. “Even if it was that, maybe it was just rough or, or…”

Dean’s look conveyed just how much he didn’t believe Sam’s logic. “You have always been too mouthy for your own good,” he told Sam. “And when your lips aren’t moving, your body is. You have a bad ‘I just got laid’ strut. It is different depending on the mechanics, okay? Now can we just leave it at that?”

“That’s a little creepy that you noticed,” Sam told him.

Dean gave him another look that said Sam was slow. Sam figured he could let Dean win that one.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ahhhh!” Dean’s moan woke Sam out of a sound sleep. It was not a happy one, and Sam was on his bare feet, padding down the hall before its cousin came whimpering out of Dean’s mouth.

“Wake up,” Sam instructed as he grabbed Dean’s leg and shook it.

“Never wake a soldier up by shaking his shoulder,” his father’s voice echoed in Sam’s ear.

He kept a firm hand on Dean’s leg though. Shoulder shaking resulted in broken noses and other bad things, but Dean was a flail king. Sam valued his nuts even when they weren’t getting any action.

Dean whimpered pitifully and tried to curl in on himself. Sam gave his leg another squeeze and shake. “Wake up!” he shouted.

Dean’s eyes flew wide open, flashing white in the dim light for a second before he smacked Sam’s hand away and drew his knees up to his chest. “Go away,” Dean mumbled.

“No,” Sam said as he perched on the edge of Dean’s bed. He knew how Dean hated being seen as vulnerable, knew it screwed with his sense of self, but he could give a fuck less at the moment. Dean hadn’t had such horrible nightmares in months.

“I fucking hate Purgatory,” Dean said with fervor.

That was quite the open moment for Dean to express, and Sam was more than willing to hear it. But if Dean was trying to talk about it, then that was not what he’d been dreaming about.

“You’re out now,” Sam supplied instead of calling Dean on his bull.

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Dean mumbled.

“No?”

“No,” Dean told him.

“Okay well, then, we’ll just…”

“I think we should have a sale on the floggers, two for one,” Dean blurted out.

“What?”

“You’re right, who wants a BOGO for floggers? Seventy percent off, if they want extras they can buy them separately.”

“Dean, you just got that shipment in,” Sam reminded him.

Dean just looked at him in response.

Hell then.

“I hate Purgatory,” Dean repeated. “I hate that place so much.”

“That wasn’t what you were dreaming about,” Sam gently pointed out.

“No,” Dean agreed. “But it’s what made me weak. I’m not you, Sammy. I don’t have nightmares.”

“Your demons chase you in sunlight,” Sam observed.

“Don’t be poetic about it,” Dean said to his knees.

“I’m not. I’m just saying that this isn’t anything to be ashamed of, this is normal.”

“Not for me it isn’t. I should be out there hunting. That’s me,” Dean argued.

Sam tried not to let the panic well up inside of him at those words. He’d been dreading them for a while now, always worried about when they’d come out of Dean’s mouth again. “No,” he said firmly, “absolutely not.”

“I know. I’m in no condition to be out there.”

“No. You just aren’t going to do that,” Sam corrected. “You aren’t going to do that to us, to me. Your first job is to take care of me, isn’t it? So you can fucking well obsess over that.”

“That’s not what you’ve said before,” Dean pointed out.

“Well I’m saying it now. Things change. Circumstances change. You are parking your ass here,” Sam ordered. He was vaguely aware he was shaking, but he couldn’t tell if it was rage, fear or something else. He didn’t much care so long as Dean didn’t go off on one of his martyrdom quests again.

In the past, Dean wouldn’t have listened to him. Hunting was his thing. Dean was going to be the hero and hunt the bad guys. But Dean wasn’t screwed up back then like he was now, and they both knew it. Besides that, Sam was older now. Dean was older. They had practically nothing left and were given no gratitude for what they had accomplished in life.

“You’re bossy,” Dean accused halfheartedly.

“You agreed,” Sam continued. “You agreed that we were going to do this.”

“I know,” Dean said.

“Then quit trying to go back in time,” Sam said as he left the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean brought him coffee the next morning, sans dildo stir stick. He didn’t say anything, but Sam knew a thank you and apology from Dean when he saw one.

“Asshole,” he still said anyway.

Dean huffed and went back to the kitchen.

“I need to get laid,” Sam told his coffee cup. The dark brown liquid didn’t reply.

The problem was that Sam had already faced the fact that he was in love with his brother. Going out and having a one night stand wouldn’t be cheating because Sam wasn’t actually in a relationship, but he knew it would feel like it. Dean wouldn’t care, at least not in the way that would make things horrible between them.

Dean had always been a large advocate for Sam getting sex more often. He was busy fighting against their mutual love fest anyway, so he’d likely think of it as a good thing no matter what his personal wants were.

But it wouldn’t be fair to Sam. He was invested, and a quick roll in the hay with somebody else would only give him more feelings to process through. That and he would have to drive out of town to do it. There was no way that he could pick somebody up at a local bar for a quickie and not have it around town that he was ‘cheating’ on Dean.

“Fucking jerk better be worth it,” Sam muttered as he got out of bed. He was going to get into Dean’s pants if it took him a whole damned year. They were going to settle down to play house until they were both old and grey and in need of Viagra.

And that was that.


End file.
